


Angelic Intervention

by Redfire_Dragon



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Accidental summoning, Angels, Cute, Hold still tiny Jazz, Really can't think of the right ones just yet, lots of cute, more tags to come
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-16
Updated: 2018-09-16
Packaged: 2019-07-12 20:48:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16003025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Redfire_Dragon/pseuds/Redfire_Dragon
Summary: Sometimes we all need a little saving, especially by someone who is endlessly kind and gentle.https://prowlxjazz.dreamwidth.org/1731772.htmlProwlxJazz 11th anniversary challenge week 2Angels





	Angelic Intervention

The small sparkling tripped over a root, the impact with the ground blasting the air from his frame and shocking his vents, making them cough and wheeze pathetically, frame spasming. He tried to struggle up but he felt weak and overheated, the stalled venting making him dizzy as his processor was forced to lighten its load to prevent heat damage. He wiped at the tears streaming down his face, letting out weak gasping shuddering sobs, the dirt that was ground into his knees and now his elbows itchy and getting into the joints and turning the tears on his face into mud. "Sire!" He wailed, as he managed to push himself up, shakily, onto his servos. He glanced this way and that, but still no sight of them, the picnic grounds, or anything else familiar. "Caaaarrrier!" He wailed, desperate, the sobs and tears getting worse again as despair filled him. His venting, and thus temperature, was returning to normal, but he was too miserable to even notice, dragging himself back to his dented pedes wobbily so he could turn around and around, tiny overflowing optics searching everywhere for the slightest sign of a _hint_ of a way back to his family.

He hadn't _meant_ to get lost, he really hadn't. Jazz wasn't a _bad_ sparkling, he just... he just wanted to go look at that that weird looking stump by the edge of the forest. And then there had been that pile of stick and the odd shaped leaves on that bush that he'd had to pick and run his tiny fingers over, marveling at the veins and the funny smell. Then he'd seen something blue and white in the distance and just _had_ to tromp over to investigating, amazed that as he approached it turned out to be a flower the size of the palm of his tiny hands. That had been beautiful, and he'd wanted to pick it, so he had. And then he'd turned around to head back to give it to his carrier only to catch sight of _another_ blue and white bloom off in a different direction. One for each of his creators? He'd thought it his lucky day.

It was not his lucky day.

Not. At. All.

It was only after he'd gotten enough flowers that his tiny servos were full that he looked around to find where he could step back into the clearing, pretty sure he was only a couple steps away despite his wanderings. But no matter which way he looked there were more trees. More and more, so tall they seemed to reach the sky, blocking out so much of the light. He forgot the flowers, servos loosening, many dropping to the forest floor immediately, the rest following soon after. He never noticed, running through the forest, he had come from this direction for certain, but the trees didn't end, no light ahead like the sunny meadow where the picnic area was. So maybe it was _this_ way he'd come from. Again and again he tried, running faster and faster as he became more frantic, tears trickling down his face, wailing and screaming for his creators, tripping and stumbling until he hit the root.

He was tired and sore and hot and it was getting dark. He sniffled, wobbling, and staggered over to lean on a tree. He looked around again, whimpering, and tried to wipe his face clean with one forearm only succeeding in spreading the mud across more of his small face. "Sire?" He called again, voice seeming so small in the endless trees. "Carrier?" It was hopeless, he was lost, they would never find him. His slowing tears picked up again, accompanied by explosive sobs. "Mean trees!" He wailed, angry for a short while in his sobbing, until the despair crept in on him again. He was lost, and too tired to walk any further, his optics stinging from all the tears, joints aching from jarring and the dirt that had gotten inside when his seams had gaped open wide in an attempt to prevent him from critical overheat. There was no hope. His creators would never find him among these endless trees. Slowly he curled up, sobs fading from sheer exhaustion, tiny blue optics dimming as he lay on the forest floor staring at nothing, knowing that he wouldn't be found for _ages_ , and then only his struts, a tiny little skeleton of the foolish little sparkling that didn't know how mean the trees were that loved to make people lost and never see their families again. In short he was doomed.

His optics half closed as he mourned the fate he believed entirely decided, he didn't notice at first the increasing light in the deepening darkness. But he _did_ notice when gentle hands picked him up. His optics widened, the light registering, and as he was lifted up he looked up into a strange solemn face that seemed to radiate light, a white helm with little red wings over the optics for some reason. He gaped at the stranger, but was too tired to say anything. Then there was a faint lurch, as if the strange mech had jumped, but as he looked down around the strong arms cradling him he saw the ground falling away and soon, the tops of the trees were below him. He gasped, dizzied and nervous, too tired to properly sort through what he was feeling.

"Don't be afraid." A gentle, though inexpressive voice said and he looked up into that strange face again. Golden optics stared down at him somberly. "You are safe." The voice added. And, for whatever reason, he believed it, a calm settling over him, reassurance in the strange glowing mech's field helping him to settle.

But he didn't _want_ to settle! He was _flying_! How often would _that_ happen in his life? He squirmed, rolling partway over. And though the mech moved his arms to hold him more securely Jazz was able to see out over the edge to stare down at the trees rushing by below. He gasped in wonder, and wiggled his tiny arms and legs in excitement, tiny exclamations escaping him as he bounced and squirmed. A faint swirl of alarm and annoyance drifted over the flying mech's field but Jazz could hardly notice, too caught up in the incredible sight.

Up ahead there were lights peeking up from under the tops of the trees, so many, and quite bright, or just areas that glowed, all the lights moving slowly. Soon they were all around the two of them, Jazz twisting every which way trying to see anything. The mech holding him pulled him tighter, field flaring a little bit with annoyance and exasperation now, something Jazz felt quite often from his parents when he squirmed like this. They called him their 'little squiggling sparkling', and if he hadn't been _so tired_ he would have managed to escape the grasp of the mech carrying him so he could see the lights better. It never occurred to him that escape meant he would fall and, unlike when his parents carried him, the fall would hurt him, much less _kill_ him.

Soon they were dropping down through the canopy, oddly no branches brushing against them. It almost looked like they were bending away as Jazz settled, having burned off almost all the energy left to him, content now to just watch, limbs too heavy to move, optics drifting closed. He didn't feel a thing when they landed and, as the mech slowly lowered him to the ground, he realized he could hear his sire's voice. "Sire?" He called, a bit surprised. Then he caught sight of his sire, wielding a flashlight not too far away. "Sire!" He tried to get up and didn't quite make it, but they were coming. In the excitement of the moment he all but forgot about the glowing mech who'd helped him. It was only after his creators were holding him close in a tight family hug and asking him where he was and how he had ended up _behind_ them when he remembered the mech who'd helped him, explaining what had happened. But when he turned to look where the mech had been there was no comforting glow, only the somehow no-longer-scary darkness of the forest. He frowned trying to explain to his creators that the mech had been _right there_ , but they just talked about his active imagination. Jazz wasn't sure what that meant, it had always seemed like a good thing but now maybe it wasn't since it made his parents not understand? But soon his sire lifted him up, bending his helm to blow against Jazz's tummy and the little sparkling was set to giggling and forgot about everything else, just happy to be with his creators again, quickly conking out into a deep restful sleep, exhausted by his adventure.

 

Jazz wouldn't see Prowl again for many vorns to come.


End file.
